


I Used to Believe in Love

by PoorUnfortunateSoul



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged up characters, Angst, Anxiety Disorder, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Future AU, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Past Abuse, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-26
Updated: 2016-05-02
Packaged: 2018-06-04 14:30:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6662545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PoorUnfortunateSoul/pseuds/PoorUnfortunateSoul
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everything was a reaction. </p><p>Kageyama's attraction to Oikawa was a chemical reaction. The way he treated his lover's after Oikawa was a chain reaction of on to the next, the next, and the next, until his reputation was no better. </p><p>Kageyama was just looking for a fresh start, a way to break away from the stupid reactions that controlled his life, and maybe his coping mechanism weren't exactly healthy, but they're better than being alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Geronimo

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Just_Tooru_Trash](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Just_Tooru_Trash/gifts).



     When Kageyama first entered junior high, he didn't know what to expect. It was a new world, completely different from what he was used to.

 

      He ran over every worst case scenario he could think of in his head, figuring out ways to avoid letting them happen; he went over them several times before falling asleep the night before his first day, yet he still didn't feel ready.

 

     He even tried to fake sick, but his mother saw right through it. When the day ended, after tripping over his shoelace in the middle of a crowded hallway, spilling milk on himself at lunch, and stuttering over his words when he introduced himself to his new teacher, Kageyama was just glad that it was over, and that he had volleyball after.

 

     Volleyball was easier, the only familiar thing in a day full of changes. It was comfortable, and a little bit of comforting was exactly what he needed after his awkward first day.

 

      Upon entering the gym, the first thing he noticed was a boy that everyone else seemed to love. He had a confident smile and obvious talent. After watching him for a brief moment, Kageyama breathily uttered one word.

 

     "Pretty."

 

     The boy seems to hear, and looks at Kageyama in surprise, like he'd never heard someone call him that before. 

 

     The boy's name, Kageyama soon learned, was Oikawa. He was loud, and squawked a lot at another player named Iwazumi. He had twice the talent Kageyama originally thought he did, but never seemed to grasp just how much he had.

 

     Kageyama admired him, and tried to improve by watching. Watching quickly turned that admiration into his first full blown crush, and Kageyama didn't know what to do with himself around Oikawa anymore.

 

     Every time he looked, Kageyama messed up somehow, either getting distracted and smacked with a ball, or glaring when he meant to smile. He wanted Oikawa to _like_ him, not think that he hates him.

 

     Try as he might, that seemed to be the impression he was leaving on Oikawa. The older boy seemed to avoid him at all costs, and denied Kageyama’s requests to help him improve.

 

     With Oikawa being Kageyama’s first crush, he didn’t know how to proceed. Surely he couldn’t just walk up to him and confess – especially not with how their current relationship was progressing.

 

     The night that Oikawa stayed late seemed like the perfect opportunity to try to sneak in some quality time with him. Kageyama figured that, without the distractions created by their teammates, Oikawa would have no reason to deny his request for help; thus, giving Kageyama some time to (hopefully) fix the whole, ‘I don’t know how to control my facial expressions, but I swear I don’t hate you,’ problem.

 

     Unfortunately, all he received after hours of practicing apologizing a dozen different ways with a dozen different wordings, all he gets in return is an almost-slap to the face. Stunned into silence, Kageyama quickly took his leave after Iwaizumi barked at him too.

 

     Iwaizumi had seemed pissed, and Kageyama, somehow worried for the older boy despite what had just happened, watched from the doorway. Iwaizumi screamed as much as Kageyama figured he would before storming out of the gym, leaving Oikawa to slowly follow.

    

     He looked smaller than Kageyama had ever seen him, and it was a weird difference to the usual air of confidence that Oikawa carried around with him. Kageyama was quick to decide that he didn’t like it, and lightly tapped Oikawa’s shoulder before he could leave.

 

     Oikawa looked as shocked by Kageyama’s actions as Kageyama himself felt, but that didn’t stop him from asking, “Do you want me to walk you home?”

 

     Wordlessly, Oikawa nodded. They walked on in silence, and hardly even acknowledged that the other was there. Kageyama was sure that if he didn’t hear Oikawa’s stuttering breathing next to him, he would’ve forgotten that he was even there.

 

     They stopped in front of Oikawa’s house, and the older boy turned to look at him.

 

     “I’m sorry that I almost hit you,” he said, looking small again. 

 

     Kageyama waved off the apology and smiled in what he _hoped_ was a friendly way.

 

     “It’s no big deal; I should’ve known better than to bother you while you were in the zone like that.”

 

     Oikawa smiled sadly and ruffled Kageyama’s hair.

 

     “I hope you don’t make excuses for everyone who does you wrong. Sweet people like you deserve the world, not to be the gum on the bottom of someone’s shoe.”

 

     Kageyama blinked in surprise. Never in his life had he been called sweet. Cold, unapproachable, maybe genius if the person saying it was too nice for their own good, but never _sweet._

 

     “Thank you,” Kageyama blurted out before he could stop himself.

 

     Oikawa smiled sweetly, “Don’t thank me for stating for the truth.” He snorted and looked away in embarrassed. “God, was that not the most fuck boy-like thing you’ve _ever_ heard?”

 

     Kageyama laughed and Oikawa lit up; he liked that noise.

 

     “Really though, how cheesy was _that?_ Next I’m going to ask you if it hurt when you fell from Heaven!” Oikawa said, pulling a horrified look.

 

     Kageyama chuckled and placed a hand on his hip.

 

     “Are you calling me the devil?”

 

     “Oh my God – did you just – _Kageyama_ – God, you’re _awful_. Like, worse than _me._ And I’m a tough act to follow,” Oikawa laughed.

 

     Kageyama grinned at Oikawa’s laugh this time. A silence fell over them then. They both shifted their positions a few times, feeling uncomfortable but also not wanting to leave each other.

 

     Eventually the porchlight is flicked off and their washed in darkness.

 

     “I guess that’s my cue to leave,” Kageyama said sheepishly.

 

     “Ah – yeah. We must’ve been out here for a while if my parents decided to turn the light out. Whoops.”

 

     “Hah, yeah.”

 

     Kageyama scratched his arm uncomfortably and turned to leave.

 

     “Ah, wait, Kageyama?” Oikawa asked, lightly gripping the back of his shirt.

 

     “Yeah?” Kageyama asked, heart doing backflips in his throat from Oikawa’s feather-like touch.

 

     Oikawa dropped his hand when he realized that he had Kageyama’s attention.

 

     “Um, I could. You know. Teach you how to serve? If you still want, of course!” Oikawa said, voice raising in pitch the more embarrassed he became.

 

     Kageyama flushed and nodded.

 

     “Okay – yeah. Thursday? I could stay late with you, or…”  


     “Yeah, no, that’s fine. See you then, Kageyama.”

 

     “Goodnight, Oikawa.”

 

     Kageyama grinned the whole way home that night. He’d count this as a win.


	2. Don't Get Your Hopes Up, Darling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title Credit - Darling by SayWeCanFly

 

Kageyama met Yamaguchi two years after he graduated from high school. They met in Pittsburgh, at an American band's concert.

 

Kageyama was an intern for the Beaver times, hoping to use it as a way to gain lead-way in his career after graduating from college. He mostly covered the entertainment section, since it was hard to mess that up. 

 

It was a cold night, and the band was good. Kageyama got lost in the crowd as they pushed their way to the exit, and the snow impaired his vision once he stepped outside, shivering.

 

He nearly ran head first into Yamaguchi, who was trying to navigate the way to his car in the horrible weather.

 

Yamaguchi was softer than Kageyama, his skin taken care of and moisturized; protected from the winter's wiping winds. Kageyama's own skin was cracked, split and bleeding from the cold, but Yamaguchi gladly cleaned the scratches. 

 

Yamaguchi, initially, was supposed to be another one of Kageyama's one night stands, but he refused to stay that way. Kageyama was following the American band around the states to get his article about their first official tour written; Yamaguchi was following them because he was a twenty year old, trying to get all of his bad decisions out of his system as quickly as possible.

 

Yamaguchi found his way into the hotels Kageyama stayed in. He cooked meals for him when they'd had too much fast food, and nursed him to health when all the traveling took a tool on his body.

 

Yamaguchi was gentler than his other lovers, too. From the way that he touched Kageyama, feather light, like he didn't want to break him, to the soft way he spoke.

 

He needed more attention than his lovers did, too. He was very much a follower, and sometimes Kageyama felt like he was leading around a dog.

 

Not that it was a bad thing, since Yamaguchi held all of the positive traits a dog does, too. He got excited when Kageyama came home, and placed kisses all around his face, though he refused to kiss his lips until Kageyama whined about it.

 

(He'd never admit it out loud, but he loved that about Yamaguchi the most.)

 

He was completely loyal and only raised his voice when someone raised theirs at Kageyama first. His presence calmed Kageyama, and he never grew tired of his antics.

 

Despite all the protecting Yamaguchi did, he also needed protecting from himself. He was insecure and good at making himself feel small, so Kageyama was constantly seeking out excuses to shower him with praise. One particularly bad day, Kageyama had come up with a reason to love him for every freckle on his body. Yamaguchi couldn't remember a time he'd been so embarrassed, or so in love.

 

After that fiasco, Kageyama decided that he couldn't decide whether the singular freckle on the top of Yamaguchi's left ear, or the one off to the side of the knuckle of left pinkie finger was his favourite. Kageyama made sure to kiss those ones the most.

 

Everything had been going great between them, until one night when Kageyama had used the empty basketball court and an imaginary net to practice his serves. He'd left their bed four hours ago, making it well past 2 A.M.

 

Yamaguchi came to check on him, waking up after a dream where he was falling and instantly noting the cold bed. He snuck up behind him while he was trying to serve, and slapped the back of his hand.

 

With Yamaguchi's added pressure, the ball shot to the other end of the court much harder and faster than Kageyama meant it to. Yamaguchi looked on with awe, before turning towards Kageyama.

 

"That was amazing!" he gushed, gripping onto Kageyama's sleeve. "I used to play volleyball in high school, but I was never really good at it. Would you teach me how to serve like that?"

 

Kageyama looked at him with a hard gaze. Yamaguchi's face was eager and hopeful, and the situation was so familiar that it made Kageyama's chest ache.

 

"No."

 

Yamaguchi deflated like he'd been holding his breath.

 

"Oh, okay."

 

He watched from the sidelines as Kageyama practiced for a few more hours. Eventually, the sun rose and Yamaguchi was yawning so much that it looked like he was crying. Or maybe he was, and Kageyama just didn't want to acknowledge it.

 

Neither of them moved until there was a loud "whoop!" from across the street. Yamaguchi got up, wiping rocks and small pieces of dirt from his pants.

 

“I guess that’s our hint to hit the road,” he said, grabbing the volleyball from the ground.

 

“Probably,” Kageyama agreed half-heartedly.

 

They walked back inside their hotel and re-packed their bags. For the first time since the beginning of the tour, they made sure to pack their own things, instead of shoving the first item they saw in.

 

For the past three months, they’d been sharing space, clothes and personal items like hair brushes; there hadn’t been a reason to separate their individual things.

 

Yamaguchi, sensing the mood of the room, didn’t fill the room with light hearted chatter like he normally did. They walked to their cars in silence.

 

They stood in front of Kageyama’s car. He pulled his scarf from around his neck and wrapped it around Yamaguchi’s, protecting him from the spring air, cold with the last touches of winter. Yamaguchi touched it gently, with tears gathering in the corner of his eyes.

 

“I don’t think we should see each other anymore,” he said.

 

Yamaguchi nodded. “Is there someone else?”

 

“No. I haven’t looked at anyone that way since I met you; not even when we were just fooling around.”

 

“Is it something that I did?”

 

“No, I just don’t feel that way about you anymore,” Kageyama lied.

 

“Okay.”

 

Scrubbing at his cheeks, Yamaguchi walked back to his own car. Kageyama got into his, and cranked up the heat. He shoved his shaking fingers against the heaters as an overwhelming feeling of fear that he hadn’t felt in years slammed against his ribcage.

 

“Fuck,” he whispered, starting to cry. “ _Fuck!_ ”

 

He leaned his head back against the headrest, clutching one hand over the other to keep it from shaking. Kageyama took a few minutes to calm down before pulling out of the parking spot.

 

Yamaguchi never came to the next show.

 

\----

Kageyama met Sugawara eight months after his four month relationship with Yamaguchi. They met in London.

 

     Kageyama was following a different band for a slightly bigger company. It was a magazine this time, one that focused on pop-punk and alternative bands.

 

     He was in his last year of college, planning to take the courses online, and desperate to erase the taste of the freckled boy’s mouth from his tongue. It wasn’t long after the slightly older man bought him a drink from the bar that they were heading upstairs. Kageyama spent the night in his room before he even knew his name.

 

     They ran into each other again at the band’s next concert, and this time, Kageyama didn’t leave before Suga’s alarm went off.

 

     Their relationship surpassed the time he’d spent with Yamaguchi, but still wasn’t long enough to beat out his four year relationship with Oikawa.

 

     Sugawara wasn’t nearly as gentle as Yamaguchi. He didn’t treat Kageyama like he was made of glass, and he was much more self-assured. He didn’t hover over Kageyama at all times of the day, but he didn’t leave him to fend for himself, either.

 

     Suga was a perfect blend of not too little, but not too much, and it made it very easy for Kageyama to get comfortable. He was somehow more motherly than Yamaguchi, and went out of his way to take care of Kageyama.

 

     He took days off work when Kageyama’s shitty-as-it-is immune system failed him, and he knew how to make the perfect chicken noodle soup. He was constantly stocked with medicine and Band-Aids, and was very adamant about kissing injuries better.

 

     Still, he was brutally honest and he told Kageyama what he needed to hear, rather than what he wanted. He checked over Kageyama’s articles critically, and Kageyama credited more of his success to Suga’s quick wit and harsh truths than schooling.  

 

     He had a habit of playfully punching Kageyama, all the while grinning adoringly. Kageyama was amazed that the first hit that Suga landed to his side didn’t trigger his fight or flight response.

 

     He was used to skin to skin contact of that kind sending him into a panic attack, but when Suga did it he just felt… loved. It was confusing, but comfortable and he didn’t really see the need to stop it.

 

     There was a time when Kageyama’s body was covered in bruises in hits like that, but somehow Suga’s never left any. Kageyama could sure as Hell _feel_ them, but they never left a single mark.

 

     He kind of enjoyed what he came to call ‘Suga’s Love Taps’ and revealed in the idea that Suga’s hands were soothing the bruises left by another, despite having faded a long time before he never met him.

 

     Just like with Yamaguchi, everything was going well until it wasn’t. Suga and Kageyama came home drunk from celebrating a successful article with a notoriously egotistical band. Kageyama had somehow gotten decent responses to his questions despite their arrogance, something that no other interviewer for the magazine had been able to do, and was sure to catch his bosses attention.

 

     They stood in front of their apartment door, Suga nuzzling his face in Kageyama’s neck while he drunkenly shifted through the keys.

 

     “I can’t believe I actually did it,” Kageyama marveled for the fifth time that night.

 

     Suga beamed up at him.

 

     “I told you, you would! You just have to stop being so negative all the time.”

 

     “I’m not negative _all_ the time,” Kageyama scoffed.

 

     Suga’s grin turned mischievous and Kageyama braced himself, but he wasn’t fast enough. Suga jammed his hand just under Kageyama’s ribs. He laughed until it turned into a choked noise when Kageyama, in his drunken state, ended up toppling down the apartment steps.

 

     “Kageyama!” Suga screeched, running after him.

 

      Kageyama sat up, clutching his forehead, where the pain had blossomed. He brought his hand down into his line of vision and made a surprised noise from the back of his throat when it came away wet with blood.

  

     “Kageyama!” Suga yelled again, dropping to his knees when he reached him. “I’m so sorry – I didn’t mean – I mean, I meant to _hit_ you, but I didn’t – you weren’t supposed to roll down the steps!”

 

     He continued to babble incoherently, and Kageyama ended up being the one to support him up the stairs. Upon reached their door, Suga seemed to snap out of it and quickly pulled his boyfriend to their bathroom.

 

     Suga patched him up and gave him dozens of kisses before passing out on the couch. Once Kageyama was sure he was asleep, he crept to the bathroom by himself.

 

     He flipped on the light while tugging on his shirt, breathes speeding up until they were barely coming at all. His head was spinning, his stomach churning, his chest aching and the skin just under his ribs bruising.

 

     He clutched at the sink and gulped in as much air as he could. It wasn’t much, and for a few terrifying minutes, he felt like he was going to pass out. The light of the bathroom stung his eyes, so he turned it off.

 

     Curling up on the floor, Kageyama hugged his knees to his chest and stared at Sugawara out on the couch. His hair fell into his eyes and his eyelashes casted small shadows along his cheek and on that beauty mark Kageyama loved so much. His arms were still open, inviting Kageyama to settle back into them and for the first time in a little over a year and a half, they didn’t seem so much like home.

 

     Kageyama gently pressed his fingers against the bruising skin and hissed softly. His breathing became ragged again, and he knew he had to leave.

 

He didn’t feel safe anymore, and if he didn’t feel safe he needed to leave, no questions asked; sometimes he had to look out for himself. There’s no cowardliness in realizing the limitations anxiety puts on him. You have to pick and choose your battles, and this isn’t one he should choose.

 

Repeating his old phycologist’s mantra in his head, he pulled himself to his feet and left without saying goodbye.  

    

**Author's Note:**

> Yeeeeeeeeeeee, I'm so excited for this. As fun as writing The Team Mom's How to Guide is, my home is definitely angst. I'm always a slut for suffering.
> 
> Speaking of the How to Guide, I promise this won't effect it's updating schedule; it should still get updated two or three times a week. 
> 
> It's just, I write that one with my sister, but she doesn't write a lot and I do, and I was getting antsy waiting for her, so I gave myself something else to work on. That is all. 
> 
>  
> 
> [My Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/xxpoorunfortunatesoulxx)


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